


Brooding America

by DepressingGreenie



Category: Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes, Marvel
Genre: Avengers Mansion, Brooding, Chicken raising, Chickens, Chicks, Clever farmer, Crack Treated Seriously, Daddy Steve, Domestic Avengers, Egg Hatching, Eggs, Fanart, Fluff, Gen, Happy, Illustrated, Light Angst, Little baby chickens, Mother Hen Steve Rogers, My own art, Pets are good for happyness, Protective Avengers, Protective Steve Rogers, The Avengers Are Good Bros, happy steve, kind of crack?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-21 20:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DepressingGreenie/pseuds/DepressingGreenie
Summary: Normally when Captain America broods it isn't a great thing... This time it is very much a good thing.





	1. Thanks...

Steve briskly strides up the path leading up to the farmhouse, eager to go back to Avengers Mansion. A long warm shower was in order after today’s fight. If he was let in the Mansion at all with how caked he was in muck. Iron Man was probably within his right to hose him down outside first, the thought brought a smile to his face.

It was a small mission, with only him in attendance to deal with a monster that was living in a farmer’s barn. The thing seemed to be made entirely made of mud and grime, he wondered if he should mention to the owner of the place that his barn may need a bit of cleaning now.  
  
Steve looks up and sees the man waiting outside on the farmhouse porch with a warm smile. “The monster is dealt with, sir. Your ban is safe now” he says, shaking the farmer’s offered hand.

“Thank you, Captain. Thank you. Really. I don’ think I woulda known even where to begin with handlin that. The Cops wouldn’ believe me, if you hadnta come… well, I would have gone outta business. No way I coulda got any work done with all my machines trapped in there!” The man said earnestly.   
  
Steve smiled pulling back his hand, “It was no problem. I’m glad to have helped”. He turns slightly ready to leave “Well, I best be off-”, however he is stopped.

The farmer calls out “Captain, wait!” and goes to retrieve a small box from the bench by the front door “I want you to have these, as thanks”. The box is held out for him.  
  


Inwardly Steve groans. “We don’t really accept gifts in exchange for what we do. Sorry, I really can’t accept” he puts gently, hoping that he has not hurt or upset the man too much by refusing. He sees the man’s face sink a little and feels bad for turning the gift down. But there is a stubborn spark to the man’s eyes and Steve hopes this is not going to be an argument.

“I understand that, Captain. But,” The farmer begins, his hands carefully moving to open the box up to revile its contents.

Steve remains stock still in attempt not to bury his face in his hands. He is tired and filthy, he really wants a shower. What he does not want is to argue this as the sun and the mud coating him sets. The farmer moves in closer to show him what is inside, nearly a dozen chicken eggs of different colors.

“But surly this wouldn be too bad, huh? Justa few of my hen’s eggs” He says with a grin.

Steve looks down at the eggs with consideration. Food was not so bad. There has been plenty of times people have shown gratitude to their heroes with food. Even during the war, thankful towns liberated would happily share some food with the Howling Commanders and himself. It was not so bad really.  
  


With a smile he carefully takes the box “I suppose I could. Thank you”. The farmer’s grin widens, pleased.

“No worries, enjoy. Take care, Captain” the farmer waves his goodbye and moves to head indoors.

“You too” Steve replies as he heads off down the path towards his bike, box carefully held within his hands.

* * *

Steve moves over to the stove, box in hand, feeling much better after his shower. His next course of action were these eggs. Whilst in the shower, he had decided to simply fry them up. Easy and quick, then he can head off to rest.

He places a large pan on the stove carefully to keep the noise down, in case any of the others were trying to sleep. There were no other calls for aid that he was aware of, but that was beside the point. He lights the stove then moves to pick up one of his eggs carefully.

It is a rich dark brown colour with little speckles all over. It’s has quite a weight to it, heaver then the ones from your local supermarket. He rolls it around in his palm a bit to look at all the speckles, noticing the odd shifting of the weight within the egg.

Steve turns back towards the stove, egg at the ready. He goes to crack the egg on the side of the pan, but pauses. He pulls his hand back slightly. Just enough so that the flames from the stove shine through the egg. A majority of the egg glows a bright orangey-yellow. But there is a dark spot with little veins running from it.

Steve puts the egg down on the counter carefully and pulls out his phone. He opens up the internet and looks up ‘How to tell if an egg is fertile’. He reads though one of the pages and then quickly looks at the images. He finds a ‘candling’ chart, showing what a fertilized egg should look like over light at the various stages of development.

Holding the phone in his left hand he move the egg over the flame with his right. “Huh”, the egg does appear to hold a little chick inside. He quickly puts it back in the box and pulls out another. After testing the rest and finding them all to be fertile, Steve simply stares at them.

Did the farmer know? Steve wonders as he turns off the stove. The guy did not mention that they were fertile. He also, however, did not say they were for eating either. “Hmmm…” Should he return them? Did the guy give him the wrong box of eggs?

But, it does not make sense that he would; the guy would most likely have a proper incubation area for his fertile eggs. He would probably take close care of which eggs were fertile and which were not. The eggs were likely purposely fertilized. He could not imagine the guy selling fertile eggs to the market to be eaten, nor that he would give away fertile eggs from his hens if they were meat hens. He would likely just be giving away his probably special meat hen breed if he did so.

So this was probably purposeful, but why would he give him fertile eggs? Why would anyone think an Avenger would want or need fertile eggs? What would he do with them? Steve looks down at them thoughtfully and bites his lip. Could he hatch them? Should he? He is pretty sure there would be a ‘No Pet’ rule in Avengers Mansion.

Steve picks the box up carefully, he looks to the bin and he realizes he could not just dispose of them. He draws his attention back towards the eggs feeling uncertain. He will not just throw them away, and finding homes for the eggs in the middle of New York? Yeah, he knows that would be very difficult. And they might not make it in the time to find them a new home.

Determination fills him when he decides what he will do. He will hatch them himself, then find them new homes. It was clearest path of action. He will keep them hidden… somewhere… the closet maybe? He hold the box firmly to his chest as walks bristly to his room, careful to be as quiet and unnoticeable as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love chickens... Have raised them since I was really little. I have always adored them and spent hours trying to learn all I could about different breeds.  
> Am I excited that all those years of looking up chicken info and reading chicken books may actually be someone of a use in one of my fanfictions? YES, ABSOLUTELY XD
> 
> ...This is my first fanfiction in the Marvel Universe ^w^
> 
>  
> 
> ...I have already decided what chickens he will have. The egg colours kind of show that, I guess, but it is not much of a clue. I also have a name picked out for one. 
> 
> (In case of this question being brought up. He is a produce farmer, who sells different chickens breeds to families who want their own birds. Kind of like the farm where we got most of our hens from. They had cattle, goats and the likes for produce. Chicken breeding was another source of income.)


	2. Preparations

When morning came around Steve was eager to set off to get what he needs for the eggs. He changed into his jogging gear and went to head out.

He crept though the building, making his way to the exit quickly. He was eager to get what he needs for his eggs as soon as possible.

He had never before been so appreciative of the ease of finding information on the internet. Better then hoping your local library would have something on what you want or trying to ask around for someone who does. It had been easy to do a search on what he needed for the eggs.

The concern had been keeping the eggs warm overnight, just until the stores opened in the morning. In the end Steve found a small room heater that was sat gathering dust in the closet a little ways down the hall from his room. He set the heater up in the corner of his room and but the box full of eggs in front of it.

Steve pauses before he passes the dining room, hearing voices. He takes a deep breath in to relax. Everyone were used to him going out for jogs in the morning. It would not arouse suspicion he reminds himself.

But he wants to get the equipment he needs as soon as possible, and he does not think he could stand through a conversation with anyone right now without looking jumpy and suspicious.

Taking another breath he steals himself and moves forward. Hoping that whoever is there does not notice him.

He just about makes it, but Jan’s voice calls out to him. “Morning Cap!” she cries out loud enough that there is no way he could pretend to ignore her. ‘Blast it’ he thinks to himself.

Steve turns to face her with a put-on smile on his face. He wonders how he could beg of any long conversation and feels a rush of shame at the idea. “Morning Jan, Hank”

“How are you, Captain?” Hank asks him pleasantly.

“Good, I’m good” he responds just a tad too quickly. He does not miss the way Hank and Jan’s eyes quickly flick to one another and back to him. “How are you both?” He asks, making his voice as calm as he can in attempt to cover up.

“We’re good” Jan answers for both of them. “You heading out for your morning jog? It’s a little later then your usual time, isn’t it?”

It is later then he would normally head out, a lot later actually, but none of the stores would be open at the time of his usual jog. He lifts his right hand to rub the back of his next in what he knows to be a nervous trait, but he cannot help it. He racks his brain for a way around this.

“I… uhh… I’m trying a new route today. I just figured it would probably be better to try it when the sun is up fully, you know? Thought it would probably be a good idea” Steve answers. He feels pretty proud of himself for that one. It is not exactly a lie, he is going a new route today, and it was better he go when he is now… otherwise he would not be able to visit the shops. But he does not need to omit that part.

“Sounds great, Cap” Jan says, smiling. Hank gives her a long look.

Steve takes his chance, “Well, I better get going” he gives them a quick wave as he moves to head off.

“Sure… have fun, Cap” Jan says as she and Hank watched him go, giving him a small wave themselves.

* * *

Steve puts his box down on the bed carefully. He was thankful that no one spotted him coming in. The equipment was large and bulky, and the box would have been hard to hide from someone.

But he has it now, and that is what matters. He hurries over to his eggs and carefully feels them. He breathes a sigh of relief when they are still warm.

The thought had entered his mind of what if the heater gave out after being on for so long, it did not seem to have had much use in its life when he found it. Once the thought had entered his mind, he could not shake it. It haunted him for the remainder of his journey, nipping at his heals, making him go faster.

But it was just a worry, nothing more. The eggs were fine, he was sure of it. Steve moves over to the box on his bed, pulls out all the bits he bought and lays them out across the blankets carefully. He casts a look around his room, looking for the best spot to set up for the eggs. The current location would not do, anyone who entered his room would be able to spot it, and then he would get into trouble.

Steve walks over to his closet and opens it. This is probably be the best spot, though he does wonder if the room would over heat with the doors closed. It was still his best bet. He is glad that he keeps his room so tidy. Easy when you have so few possession, granted. But it means he can set their box up with little hassle.

Within a few short minutes it is all set up. He carefully moves the eggs to their new box, shifting them one by one.

When they are all in the box he takes a moment to look at them, to take it all in. He does not know exactly how old they are, but with his own attempts at candling, he guesses that it would be roughly 12-16 days maybe before they hatch.

He smiles down at them, his chest twinging at the thought of welcoming them into the world.

* * *

Jan launches herself onto Hank’s bed with a huff. Earning her a quick glance from Hank.

“Do you think Cap was behaving weird today? He seemed really skittish and tense” Jan asks him.

Hank looks at her with a frown “Maybe, but that is his problem”

She looks at him disbelievingly “How could you say that Hank? He is an Avenger, one of us, a teammate.”

Hank sighs and sits down next to her “Jan, c’mon… I know but, he is his own man. If he wanted help he would ask for it”

Jan looks away from him, “I worry about him, okay? After all he has gone through? What if he doesn’t know how to ask for help? Things were different in his time.” She says softly. She looks back up at hank “What if he needs us and doesn’t know how to reach out? It would be lonely, don’t you think, being so displaced?”

Hank pulls her close to him, “I am sure he is going to be okay. I don’t think he is so alone anyway. Steve and Thor have a lot in common, and he seems to have taken a shine to Tony”

“I suppose…” she says quietly.


End file.
